


It's Still a Terrible Life

by destihecker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Smith/Wesson, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, F/F, F/M, Hunter Jessica, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:05:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1857393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destihecker/pseuds/destihecker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(It's a Terrible Life!Verse AU) Dean and Sam Winchester never existed. The apocalypse was never set in motion. Instead, Dean Smith and Sam Wesson just happen to be two guys who quit their jobs to become hunters. It's destiny, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for such a short first chapter! I just wanted to get things set up and apparently I didn't need very many words to do that?? But anyway! I've had this idea in my head for a while and I'm just now brave enough to put it together. I'm anticipating that this will be a longer fic, at least compared to what I've written in the past. But yea enjoy!!

I.

 

“This is a joke. You’re kidding me, right?”

Dean Smith adjusts himself in his chair, thoughts whirling out of control. He still hasn’t processed what he is doing.

Quitting his job to go hunt _monsters?_

“No. I’ve - I recently - uh, very recently realized that I have some other work that I have to do. It’s, uh, very important to me.”

Mr. Adler’s eyes widen, his gaze drilling into Dean’s head. Dean swallows and avoids looking his (now former) boss in the eyes. “Other work? Another company?” Adler says.

Dean looks down nervously, unsure how he is going to explain himself. “No, I - it’s hard to explain. Um. It’s just that this… this is… it’s just,” Dean pauses, mulling over what he is about to say. How does he even know it’s true? “It’s not who I’m supposed to be.”

“Very well then,” Adler responds with a small nod. “I accept your notice.”

Dean releases a heavy sigh.

~

“I quit.”

Having just completed smashing his cubicle with an iron rod, Sam Wesson scans the petrified workers around him. Astonished and aghast eyes strike him repeatedly. He takes in a deep breath and lays down the tool. With that, he marches out of the room and into his destiny. He hopes.

Sam knows that he’s going to need to flee the premises quickly, before the authorities are involved. He speeds down the hallway, weaving through a melody of suits and faces and the smell of black coffee. He presses the ‘down’ button the nearest elevator and waits a moment before the doors slide open.

“Dean?”

The man already occupying the elevator glances up, his eyes filled with an intensity that Sam can’t pinpoint.

Still, without another word, Sam hops into the elevator and notices that it is already directed toward the main lobby. He tosses a glance over to Dean.

“Leaving work early?” he says, attempting to sound more casual and less interrogative.

“I quit my job,” Dean states bluntly. “Because of you.”

Sam snorts. “Hey, listen, I’m sure that if you were actually able to go through with quitting, it wasn’t entirely because of me. Something in your gut knew that we were destined for more. Destined for this.”

“I still don’t believe in destiny.”

And those were the last words spoken on the trip down.

~

“You are not coming with me, okay?” Dean snaps at Sam as they head through the company parking lot.

“Dude, why the hell not? I told you, we’re supposed to do this together.”

Dean halts, causing Sam to nearly crash into him. “Listen,” Dean says as he turns to face the other man. “There is no ‘supposed to’ in this situation, okay? We should just, I don’t know, go our own ways hunting monsters like a couple of lunatics. Seperately.”

Sam straightens his spine, resulting in Dean taking a step back. “No,” Sam responds. “You saw how well we worked together. Dude, we each saved the other at least once. We would both be dead if we hadn’t been fighting that ghost together.”

Dean looks down, contemplating. After a moment, he lifts his head to look Sam directly in the eyes. “Okay,” he says slowly. “So you want to try fighting monsters together, right? So you think that’s that only way we’re going to keep our asses alive.”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean says as he heaves a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “Get in.”

“What?” Sam says, glancing around.

Dean gestures towards a silver Prius directly beside them. “We’re at my car. Get in.”

“Oh,” Sam mutters.

Dean pulls his keys out of his suit pocket while Sam waits silently. The car comes unlocked with a click, and Dean gestures once more to the passenger seat.

Both men swing open the car doors, nearly in sync. Sam cracks a smile as he squeezes his tall frame into the reasonably small car.

“So,” Sam starts. “Where are we off to first?”

“Hell like I know,” Dean mutters, turning on the car radio. NPR trickles through the speakers.

“I was thinking,” Sam says slowly. “I was thinking that we look through some local news stories. Look for anything that seems off. Maybe start from there?”

Dean stares straight ahead and nods resignedly. “Okay. Sounds like a plan. A totally crazy one, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a plan.” Dean tosses a glance over to Sam. “Where we headed to?”

“Um,” Sam says. “My place, I guess.”

Dean bobs his head. “Okay, that could work. Address?”

Sam gives the address to his apartment as the other man swiftly programs it into his car’s GPS.

Dean gives Sam a quick look. “Ready to go off to Crazy Town?”

Sam smirks and nods. “Yeah. Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

II.

 

The car ride to Sam’s apartment is nearly silent, all but NPR droning in the background. Sam doubts Dean is actually listening, and believes that he is instead using the familiar noise as a sort of comfort.

They reach Sam’s place seamlessly. Dean is the first to swing open the car door, stepping out with just a beat of hesitation. Sam strides out a moment later, a significant difference in his step. Something along the lines of blind excitement.

“Okay,” Sam says, clapping his hands together. “I guess we’ll just head up to my apartment and get everything sorted out.”

Dean looks down. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters before letting out another sigh. Regret is already playing with his thoughts.

All the same, Sam leads Dean into a small entryway that consists of not much more than a staircase.

“Not much of a place,” Dean says, gazing around.

“Tell it to my landlord,” Sam smirks.

Sam guides Dean up two flights of stairs before coming to a halt. “Here,” he says. Sam pulls a set of keys out of pants pocket, unlocking the aged wood door. He leads Dean into a small kitchen. Pots and pans scatter the countertops. A murky green wall stands to their immediate right.

Dean purses his lips. “Ah,” he says. “Nice place.”

Sam cocks a smile. “Dude, you don’t have to lie. I know it’s shitty, but it’s what I can afford.”

They pause there, Dean continuing to examine the apartment. He catches a glimpse of a pull-out couch just past the kitchen, where wood floors turn to carpet.

Sam begins to head around the kitchen, and Dean follow begrudgingly. Behind the kitchen is a slightly larger living space. More swampish walls surround them. A desk sits in the far corner, a surprisingly expensive-looking laptop sitting open on top. Sam flashes Dean a quick grin.

“Ready to get started?” the taller man says.

“Honestly? No. No, I’m not. But I guess I don’t have much of a choice at this point.”

Sam shrugs. “We can work with that.”

Dean stands, stuck in place. Sam makes his way around a coffee table and over to the desk, where he takes a seat. He tosses a look toward Dean. “Hey, man, I get that this is hard for you. But like you said, we sorta already tied ourselves to this.”

Dean sighs, “Yeah, yeah.” He heads over to stand beside Sam, whom has just booted up the laptop.

“Okay,” Sam says, gaze set on his computer. “I say we start looking at some local news stories. Find anything that seems out of the ordinary.”

“Sounds about right,” Dean responds half-heartedly.

Sam opens up an internet browser and heads immediately to a search engine. He turns to Dean.

“Any ideas?”

Dean crosses his arms and looks weakly around the room. “Um, how about we just start out with ‘Cincinnati news’, see what comes up, and take it from there?”

Same nods and returns his focus to the monitor. “Sounds like a plan. Although it may take a while to while to sort through all that news. How about we add a word like ‘weird’ or ‘mysterious’ to the search?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go with ‘mysterious’. ‘Weird’ just sounds, I don’t know, tacky.”

Without another word, Sam proceeds to type ‘Cincinnati news mysterious’ into the search bar. He presses enter and a flood of results fill the computer screen.

“Find the most recent?” Dean suggests.

Sam doesn’t respond, but clicks on an article that heads the page. The title reads “Series of mysterious death plague Cincinnati park”.

Dean remains silent as Sam scans the article. A small grin slips onto Sam’s face as he reads.

“So get this,” he says. “Five vics. All at night, all at the same small park. Not even any suspects. The deaths appear completely random.”

Dean cocks an eyebrow. “Sounds interesting.”

“Definitely. Wanna check it out?”

Dean takes a step back. “Wait, wait,” he says. “Would this involve use heading out to a supposedly deadly park? In the middle if the night? Unarmed?”

Sam shrugs. “I didn’t say unarmed.”

“And how the hell are we going to arm ourselves?”

“Well,” Sam starts. “I don’t have any arms. My family doesn’t. I was hoping yours did?”

Dean is silent for a moment. “Well, yeah, my dad has a shitlod of guns. But that doesn’t matter, considering he living in fucking South Dakota.”

“Oh,” Sam responds.

“Yeah, ‘oh’. What the hell do you expect us to do?”

Sam purses his lips and turns back to the computer screen. “Iron? Salt? Holy water?”

“Yeah, well, what if this thing’s not a ghost? What do you expect us to do then?”

“Okay,” Sam says. “So you’re probably right, and I’ve already done some research during at work - um, at my previous employment. This is probably going to sound crazy, but I think I might have some idea as to what we’re dealing with here.”

“First of all, we have far exceeded ‘crazy’. And second, what the hell is it, Sam?”

“I think it’s a vampire.”

“A vampire.”

Sam nods. “Yeah, uh, a vampire. See, I did some research and-”

“Yeah, I get it with the ‘research’ bullshit. First it’s ghosts, and now you expect me to believe in _vampires?_ Just like that?”

Sam shrugs. “Listen, it’s a lot to take in for me too. But this is our job now, okay? We’re joing to have to roll with whatever comes our way.”

“You know what,” Dean says, taking a few steps back. “We’re not going to start our ‘job’ like this. We’re not going to dive in, reckless as hell, and try to kill a vampire.”

Sam looks directly at Dean. “So what do you want to do, Dean?” he says plainly.

Dean sighs and rubs his temples. “Okay, so I was thinking… that we drive down to my dad’s. He a hunter - game, not supernatural bullshit - and maybe we could stock up on some supplies.”

Sam responds with a wide grin. “Hey, if you’re willing, I’m willing. Just let me change, and then we can go.” He turns to stands up.

“Wait, go? Now?” Dean says.

Sam appears completely neutral. “Yeah, why not?”

Dean heaves a deep sigh. “Sure, whatever. Let’s go.”

“Do you want to swing by your place first, or-”

“No, Sam. Let’s just go.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another short chapter!

III.

 

“Dude, there is no way I’m eatin’ here! Master Cleanse, remember?”

Sam turns to face Dean. They are standing in the parking lot of a particularly decrepit diner, making their way toward the entrance. Dean has stopped.

“Dude,” Sam responds with a weak laugh. “You’re going to have to forget the whole ‘Master Cleanse’ concept from now on, okay? We’re on the road.”

“I know,” Dean responds haplessly. “I just… we could have stopped at a nice bistro or somethin’, I don’t know.”

“We need to conserve as much money as we can, okay?” Sam says as he turns around and continues toward the diner.

Dean follows.

The pair are seated at a booth nearby the entrance. Dean has removed his suit coat, while Sam now dons a dull red and white plaid shirt and jeans. The shorter man is scanning the menu feverishly, unconsciously stirring his water with a straw. Sam looks up.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you are not getting a salad,” he says with a light chuckle.

Dean puts down the menu. “Not like any of the salads they have on here are cleansing anyway.” he says with a slight pout.

“Okay, dude, just let me order for you? You need to let go of this… ‘cleansing’ deal, okay? It’s not going to work for a while.”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, whatever. Order for me. Just don’t get too crazy, okay?”

To Dean’s shock and dismay, Sam orders a salad for himself. And a bacon cheeseburger for him, before he can stop the other man.

Dean sits there, eyes wide. “What the hell did you just do? I’m telling you, man, if I die an early death, it’s on you.”

Sam laughs, wholeheartedly this time. “Okay, got it.”

Dean ends up maneuvering his way around the cheeseburger, removing the top bun and setting the bacon to the side. Sam doesn’t hold back his scolding.

“Dude, just eat the goddamn burger.”

“Dude, no.”

They leave the diner forty minutes later. During their meal, conversation revolves less around ghosts and monsters, and more around Sam prodding Dean to eat his burger in its entirety. He fails, but the trip is extensive, and an array of opportunities lay in his future. Sam retains hope; to him, it's less about the food, and more about seeing Dean break out of his shell. Hunting monsters, he's going to need to.

They return to the Prius, Dean In a slump, Sam showing a slight smile.

“Next time I'm going to get you to eat an entire burger, seriously.”

“Dude, _no._ Seriously.”

Sam shrugs and Dean attempts to hide a pout as he swings open the car door.

“So where are we?” Dean asks, not bothering to pay a glance to the GPS. Sam leans over.

“Looks like we’re just outside of Indianapolis.”

“It’s starting to get dark,” Dean comments.

“Uh, yea,” Sam responds, sitting back up. “Wanna drive for a bit more then hit a motel, maybe?”

Dean nearly scoffs. “A motel? Seriously? We are not sleeping in some dingy _motel._ ”

Sam stares straight ahead and shrugs. “Okay, well, it’s that or sleeping in the car, I guess.”

“Or,” Dean says slowly. “A nice hotel in Indianapolis. Doesn’t have to be over the top. Just something clean.”

“Dean,” Sam asserts. “We can’t blow money like that, okay? If you’d rather sleep in the car, then we can go with that. But we are not staying at a hotel.”

“Dude, I can afford it-”

“Doesn’t matter. Car or motel?”

Dean sighs. “I’d rather sleep in my car.”

“Good. Saves us money,” Sam replies. “I’ll rent out a motel room. Sound good?”

“Sure, whatever. You sleep in your dirty-ass motel, and I’ll spend the night in my nice, clean Honda Prius.” Dean smiles feebly.

Sam nods. “Okay, sounds like it’ll work. Um, you wanna find a motel?”

Dean sighs deeply and turns to his GPS. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

They end up embarking on a twenty minute drive through the suburbs of Indianapolis, scouting out a place known as the Brilliant Rose Motel. The drive is silent; Dean doesn’t even bother to turn on NPR, which Sam assumes is an indicator of his mood.

Upon reaching the motel, both men exit the car. Dean, however, turns immediately around and heads toward the back seat.

“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean mutters. He glances up at Sam, who hasn’t moved. “Dude, I’m not kidding. I’ll be fine. Okay? Now you just go and check into your stinky motel and I’ll relax and be fine.” Dean pauses. “Okay?”

Sam nods. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Dean opens the car door. “Yeah, ‘night.”

“‘Night.”


	4. Chapter 4

IV.

 

They’re back on the road the next morning.

Sam wakes early to the blaring hotel alarm, and after killing time by mulling over his thoughts, he goes to check out. He hands in his keys and pays with the credit card he managed to swipe from Dean when the other man wasn’t looking.

Sam heads back out to wake Dean.

Not to his surprise, Dean has already risen. In fact, he is already occupying the driver’s seat. Dean looks more than just a touch disheveled, and fairly exhausted. But he’s up and ready to go, and that’s all Sam needs at the time.

Sam pulls open the passenger door, and Dean glances over. “Mornin’” Dean says.

“Morning,” Sam responds as he secures himself in the car.

Dean begins to boot up the GPS. Sam reevaluates and passes him a look. “You sure you’re fit to drive?”

Dean hardly reacts. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dude, you look exhausted.”

Dean pauses to peer over toward Sam. “No matter how exhausted I am, there is no way in hell I am letting you drive my car.”

Sam chuckles. “Okay, but if we get in an accident, it’s on you.”

“Yeah, well, whatever.”

The next four hours of the journey play out smoothly. There is minimal conversation, and maximum daytime radio.

“There’s a mall coming up,” Dean comments.

Sam glances over and cocks an eyebrow. “And?”

“And I was thinking, I don’t know, cheap food. Since that’s what you’re going for.”

Sam shrugs and nods approvingly. “Hey, I mean, I guess it works.”

They end up pulling onto the rooftop parking lot of NorthPark Mall in Davenport, Iowa. Dean is the first to step out of the car. Sam smirks. “Hungry?” he says.

“Hell yeah I am,” Dean responds as he locks his Prius.

They head into the mall, Dean refusing to use a directory as they scout out the food court. They find it at the furthest end of the building.

“Dude, a juice bar,” Dean says, eying the stand almost desperately.

“Too expensive,” Sam notes, tossing a glance over to Dean. “We’re ordering some fast-food or something, okay?”

Dean sighs. “Fine, fine.”

They end up in line at a regional fast-food joint, Dean’s eyes fluttering acrossing the menu.

“They have pie,” he mutters quietly.

Sam turns around with a slight laugh. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Dean says quickly. “I mean, I just freakin’ love pie. We used to eat it all the time when I was a kid. So I guess it’s the nostalgic value.”

Sam smiles. “So get some.”

“I… can’t do that,” Dean responds.

“Okay, well, why not? Give me a logical answer other than it’s ‘bad for you’.”

Dean heaves a sigh. “Fine, I’ll order the goddamn pie. You happy?”

“Pretty much. I think we’re actually getting somewhere.”

“Shut up.”

Sam ends up ordering a salad even lighter than the one he had had last night. Dean, unaware of Sam’s true motives, makes the other man out to be a slight hypocrite.

They take a seat near the food-court exit.

Dean is about halfway through his slice of blueberry pie when he speaks, “I should probably call my dad.”

Sam glances up. “Yeah? I mean, yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Dean shrugs and is about to dive back into his meal when a noise beings to ring throughout the food court. A clanking noise that seems to reverberate throughout the mall.

Dean’s head shoots up once more. “You checked the weather, right?”

Sam appears completely taken aback. “No, I-”

Dean is soon out of his seat, along with some other mall goers, to peer out the glass doors nearby.

Hail has begun to rain down onto the parking lot outside. Golfball sized hail, at the least. Dean’s heart stops.

“My car,” he mutters. Dean rushes back over to Sam. “Dude, forget the food, we gotta get out of here _now._ ”

Sam is able to read Dean’s expression; frantic and horrified. He stands up quickly, leaving behind his half-eaten salad. They race through the mall, out into the parking garage.

“Shit, man, why didn’t I just park in here? Shit, shit.”

“Hey,” Sam says finally. “The storms probably not going to last much longer. Your car should be fine.”

Dean begins to bolt up the stairs toward the rooftop parking. Sam calls after him, “Hey, at least wait until the storm is over.” Dean doesn’t listen.

Sam follows.

A moment later they are out on the rooftop parking lot, nothing but their forearms to shield them from tumbling hail. Dean’s car is one of the only left on the particular lot, so they are able to come across it immediately.

The results aren’t what either man had hoped for.

The front windshield is plastered with an enormous crack. The hood and roof are dented in multiple places. The headlights are broken; a variety of other areas are damaged, something innumerable.

Dean simply stares silently, aghast and shielding his head from falling hail. Sam does the same.

Sam is the first to speak. “You know, we don’t have time to get that fixed.”

Dean practically scowls as he turns to look at Sam. “What?”

Sam shrugs. “I mean, who knows what sort of hauntings we could miss. Dean, it’s our job to save people. We don’t have time for car repairs.”

“So… so what do you expects us to do, huh? Use public transportation?”

“I guess.”

“No,” Dean says, still protecting himself from the now tapering hail. “If we can’t fix my car, we’re getting a new one.”

Sam glances around, most likely to bide time, before speaking. “Sure, if we can find something cheap.”

Dean grimaces. “C’mon, man. We’re at least getting something over ten grand.”

“Dude, no.” Sam pauses and sighs. “Dean, listen, we’re getting something that we can pay in full on the spot. If we’re going to be traveling, monthly car payments aren’t going to work.”

“So, what? We just leave my fuckin’ Prius here and go buy ourselves some junky old car?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Dean sighs and pays another glance to his mangled car. “Listen,” he says. “If there were any other circumstances, any at all, I’d fuckin’ fight you on this. But you know what; fine. Not like the car had any sentimental value.”

Sam cracks a delicate smile. “Anything you need from your car?”

Dean shakes his head. “My wallet’s on me. That should be enough.”

“Okay, then let’s go.”


	5. Chapter 5

V.

 

Although Sam seems to be willing to walk for months, Dean is relieved that the nearest used car dealership is just three blocks from the mall.

They enter a plethora of recently-new used cars, scanning the premises. All are priced out of Sam’s designated range of “nearly nothing”.

“Welcome!” a voice rings out. Sam and Dean move their sights forward, revealing a short, balding man in loose-fitting suit. Tight wrinkles contour his face.

“Um, hey,” Sam is the first to respond. “We’re looking for a car. A cheap one.”

The older man’s grin seemed to falter for just a moment before revving back up. “A cheap car, yes! I can help you with that. Follow me.”

Dean and Sam do as the man says, following him to the far right side of the lot. As they walk, the man speaks, “My name is Mr. Lopp, by the way. You’ve probably already deduced that this is my car dealership, yes? Anyway, I have a real bargain to show you.”

Mr. Lopp leads the two other men over to an arrangement of what looks like classic cars. Sam notices immediately that most are priced far above “ultra cheap”, and Mr. Lopp immediately catches on to his concern. “Don’t worry!” Lopp says, entirely nonchalant. “As I said before, we have a real bargain hidden within.”

Sam passes a glance over to Dean, who looks pissed as all hell. Obviously a classic car wasn’t what he had had in mind.

“Here we are!” They stop abruptly at the the far end of the dealership. Sam’s eyes drift immediately to the price of the car before them: $1,500. Still more than he had anticipated, but reasonable, considering Dean’s mild wealth.

Dean, on a separate note, appears to be in shock. He leans over and whispers to Sam, “We are not buying this car.”

Sam ignores the other man and continues to stare straight ahead. The car before them is a dull grey, and from Sam’s limited car knowledge is likely to be some sort of muscle car. It looks half broken-down already; although despite it’s disheveled appearance, all immedities appear to be intact.

Lopp flashes a wide smile. “A 1967 Chevy Impala. Fantastic car, fantastic price. Runs beautifully; should do you boys good.”

Dean glares at Sam.

“Uh,” Sam begins. “We’ll take it, I guess.”

Dean’s glare intensifies.

“Yes, yes. Well, lets go inside and discuss-”

“Actually,” Sam interrupts. “We’d like to purchase the car in full. Cash.”

Dean whispers into Sam’s ear once again, “Dude, I do not have $1,500 on me in cash.”

Sam smiles at Lopp, essentially ignoring Dean. “Where’s the nearest ATM?”

~

They nearly max out one of Dean’s credit cards paying for the car plus its fees. Dean stands aside, pouting his way through the process.

“Now,” Lopp says, fingering the cash. “Let’s go inside and fill out the necessary paperwork.”

Sam passes a glance to Dean. “Dean?”

Dean looks up. “Yeah, what?”

“The car’s yours, technically. So I was just guessing that you’d want to register it in your name.”

“Yeah, whatever.” All the same, Dean follows Lopp into the dealership building. Sam treads just behind.

An hour or so later, they find themselves pulling out of the lot. Sam is behind the wheel.

“We’ll need to get your license plate,” Sam comments.

Dean peers over to the other man. “What are we going to do? Pry it off?”

Sam shrugs. “I guess so.”

And that’s how they find themselves back at the mall - parked in the garage this time.

Using the directory, they’re able to find a small hardware store located on the second floor. Dean drags behind, still openly aggravated by the entirety of the situation.

They purchase a crowbar, screws, and screwdrivers, as well as a small assortment of iron tools; “Just in case,” Sam says. They pay with a different credit card than before.

Tools in tow, the men make their way out to the rooftop parking lot. They wander over to the demolished vehicle.

“Dude, I can’t believe we actually just bought another car,” Dean mutters.

“It was all we could do, Dean,” Sam reassures. “Like I said, we don’t have time for long stops. Remember? We have a job now.”

“Yeah, well, our job could have waited.”

Sam sighs and strolls over to the rear of the car. He pulls out a large screwdriver and gets to work.

“What’d you get the crowbar for?” Dean asks, standing over the other man.

“Just in case,” Sam responds plainly.

“Good reason.”

Dean waits silently from that point on. Soon the frame is coming off, followed by the Ohio license plate itself.

“Okay,” Sam says. “I think I’ve got it. Now we just need to install it onto the Impala, and I think we’re ready to go.”

“I could have fixed it.”

Sam glances up. “What?”

Dean seems to fidget with discomfort. “My dad… he’s a mechanic. He didn’t teach me the whole business, since it really wasn’t my interest, but I could have fixed up that car.”

Sam lifts his eyebrows and stares intently at Dean. “Quickly?”

“Well, no, but I just thought I’d say. I could have fixed it.”

Sam nods. “Okay, well, I guess that’s good to know.”

They’re on the road again an hour later, leaving behind the abolished silver Prius. Dean refuses to drive, so Sam takes over the wheel.

“So,” Sam says after about thirty minutes of driving. “You said you wanted to call your dad?”

Dean shuffles a bit in his seat. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “Guess I could do that now.”

Sam nods. “Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

With that, Dean reaches into his left pant pocket and pulls out an expensive smartphone. Sam’s eyes remain on the road as Dean pulls up his dad under his contacts. He hesitates a moment before selecting ‘call’.

The phone rings for a few beats.

“Hey, Dad,” Dean starts. “I… Yeah, I know I should be at work, I got some time off. In fact, I’m on my way to come visit you… Yeah… No, I’m serious… I should be there in around, uh, six hours…”

Sam glances over and catches a smile.

“Yeah… Can’t wait to see you too, bye.”

“Went well?” Sam asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean says as he slips the phone back into his pocket. “Really well.”

A split second of silence.

“So you’ve been counting the hours?”

“Shut up.”


	6. Chapter 6

VI.

 

“So what’s your dad like?”

Dean peers over toward Sam, eyes dull from exhaustion. They are still two hours short of their destination.

“Uh,” Dean starts, rubbing his eyes. “He’s great. Best dad I coulda asked for. I can honestly say that I wouldn’t have… had… gotten to where I did if it weren’t for him.”

Sam nods. “So how was life growing up?”

Dean squints. “Dude, what are you doing, giving me a psych eval?”

Sam shrugs and shakes his head, sight focused on the road ahead. “No, I was just wondering. You know, to give me some background before I meet your family.”

Dean turns away for a moment. “Yeah, I mean, my childhood was good. Like I said before, my dad’s a mechanic. Actually own’s a salvage yard, but fixes cars for some money on the side. On top of my mom’s saloon, I mean.”

Sam’s eyebrows perk up. “Your mom owns a saloon?”

“Yeah, I mean, it was sorta our livelihood growin’ up. But like I was saying, I spent a lot of my childhood helping my dad fix up and restore cars. Aside from that, I spent most of my time focused on school. I don’t know, man. I just didn’t have a very exciting childhood, now that I think about it. But it was nice.”

“Tell me about your mom.”

Dean sighs, but continues. “My mom is pretty great too. Toughest women I’ve ever known. Oh, and just a head’s up, you may meet my sister. She lives nearby and visits my parents pretty much every week.”

Sam nods. “You said her name before. Jo, right?”

“Yeah. Jo,” Dean responds, beginning to slouch a bit in his seat. “Interrogation over?”

Sam smiles faintly. “Yeah, I think that’s enough.”

~

They drive past Singer Auto Self Service Salvage Yard that evening.

“My dad’s salvage yard,” Dean points out. “House is just a bit further down.”

Sam passes Dean a glance. “Singer?”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Named it after my grandmother.”

From what Sam can see, the salvage yard is littered with battered and beaten cars. He can’t possibly imagine where any mechanical work would be done.

Less than a minute later, Dean taps Sam on the shoulder. “Pull up here,” he says. Sam takes a sharp turn to the right, leading up a dirt driveway.

Even more car scraps litter the premises. Initially, Sam is so taken aback by the filth that he fails to notice the tall blue house ahead of them.

“Here we are,” Dean says with a weak smile, giving Sam a pat on the shoulder.

Sam brings the Impala to a halt in the dirt outside the house. Both men pause, their lack of an action plan dawning on them.

“So,” Sam says. “How are you going to explain me to your family?”

Dean hesitates. “I mean, I was planning on telling them you were a friend interested in a nice road trip. Unless you have a better idea.”

Sam nods. “No. I mean, that sounds good.”

Dean smiles. “Good. I’ll go knock. You wait here, okay?”

“Sure. Got it.”

With an additional forced grin, Dean throws open the Impala door and heads toward the front entrance. He knocks twice.

Sam watches as the door flies open just a moment later. At the other end stands a bearded man, dressed less than formally in jeans and a t-shirt. He dons a fraying baseball cap. Sam catches himself smiling slightly as Dean and the other man enter a tight hug.

A moment later, Dean is gesturing over toward the car. Sam catches the eye of the man that he assumes is Dean’s father. To his surprise, the barefoot older man is hiking over to the Impala a moment later. Sam prepares to exit the car, when he notices that Dean’s father isn’t interested in him; it’s the car that’s peaked his interest. He strokes the hood, a wide grin plastered to his face.

Still, Dean gestures for Sam to exit.

Sam follows through with the indirect order, and tosses open the door. His smile turns nervous as Dean’s father glares at him, expression blank. 

“Hey,” Sam manages.

“Dad,” Dean starts. “This is my friend, Sam. Like I said, he was in it for the road trip, but I was wondering if he could stay over with us?”

“Well, sure, boy,” the older man starts. He holds out as hand. “Nice to meet you, Sam. Call me Bobby.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Sam responds as he shakes the other man’s hand.

“Dinner’s just about done, how about we get you boys a coupla beers while we wait?”

Sam catches Dean wince.

“Sounds good, Dad,” Dean responds, all the same.

“Let’s head inside, then.” Bobby nudges Dean in the shoulder. “Boy, you gotta tell me more about this car.”

~

Dean manages to weasel his way out of the beers.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean says as the three of them sit around a particularly cluttered, musty living room. Still, Sam’s seen worse. “Bought it pretty cheap. Runs perfectly, I’m telling you. Just the aesthetics that need some working on.”

Dean sounds like an entirely different person when he talks to his father about cars. It’s as if the steadfast businessman has become a sort of mechanic’s apprentice.

“Sure we can give her a good paint job while you’re here, at the very least,” Bobby responds.

Dean nods. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

Bobby turns to Sam. “Don’t mean to leave you outta the conversation,” Bobby notes. “How was the trip for ya?”

Sam adjusts himself in his seat. “It was… nice. It was great, actually.”

Bobby nods. “Ellen should be done with dinner any moment now. Havin’ owned the saloon for so many years, she’s the only one in this house who can work somethin’ more than a microwave.”

Same chuckles lightly. “I’m sure she’s great at it too.”

“You bet your ass she is.”

~

Sam meets Dean’s mother, Ellen, shortly thereafter. The four of them gather into notably large combined kitchen and dining room. Ellen is a copper haired woman, with noticeably rugged facial features.

“Nice to meet ya,” Ellen introduces herself to Sam as she sets their meal in the center of the large table.

Sam nods once. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Smith.”

Ellen offers a taught smile. “Call me Ellen,” she says.

Dean cuts into the conversation as he begins to serve himself, “So what’s Jo been up to?”

Ellen take a seat at the end of the table. “Well, she just started community college nearby.”

Dean’s expression perks up immediately. “Really? She spending as much time home as she was before?”

Bobby shakes his head. “Not nearly.”

Ellen grins slightly. “One of the reasons why we’re so glad you came to visit.”

“Hey, Dad, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Bobby looks up casually. “Yeah?”

“I was considering beginning hunting.”

Bobby and Ellen nearly freeze, their movements weakening as they look up at Dean. Sam watches on with increasing discomfort.

“What’d you say, boy?” Bobby says quietly.

Dean appears taken aback. He speaks quickly, “Y’know, I just thought that maybe I’d start hunting with you. I mean, I have more free time now. Have I mentioned that I quit my job?”

Bob’s eyes widen beneath the brim of his cap. “You quit your job to start huntin’?”

Sam can see that Dean is growing progressively more startled. “Well, it wasn’t the sole reason I quit my job. I mean-”

“Boy, hunting ain’t some game. You’re-”

“Dean,” Ellen interrupts. “What sorta hunting were you thinking of gettin’ into?”

Dean shrugs. “Game? Whatever’s in season. Just wondering if I could borrow a few guns and-”

Bobby shoots upward. “Boy, do you expect me to believe that? You quit your job, come here asking for guns, bring some unidentified stranger along with ya, and expect me to believe that all you want to do is hunt _game?_ ”

To Sam’s surprised, Dean appears unphased. He stares ahead, locking eyes with Bobby. “So what exactly do you think I plan on doing, huh, Dad?” he says softly.

“You want to _hunt._ I don’t know how you found your way into this, I don’t know how I wasn’t secretive enough, but for whatever reason, my boy’s coming to me telling me he want’s to be a goddamn hunter.”

Dean is silent, confusion plastered on his face.

Bobby turns to Sam. “You get my son into this, boy? You a hunter?”

Sam remains silent for a moment, startled. “Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says with a weak laugh. How could Bobby possibly know their intentions? There was no way he was thinking what they were thinking. But what else could he possibly be going on about?

For Sam, panic sets in.

“Bobby,” he says cautiously. “I’m not entirely sure we’re on the same page here, but we may be, and I need to know. What do you think we’re hunting?”

Bobby glares at Sam, eyes wide. “Do you really want me to say it? Is it that hard for you to get?”

Dean cuts in once more, “Dad, I’ve always had my suspicions that somethin’ else was going on on those ‘extended hunting trips’, okay? And I swear, I never meant to get into this, okay? It just sorta came to me, whether you believe it or not. And you know what? I think I’m sorta good at it too. Maybe Sam’s right. Maybe it is destiny.”

“There ain’t no thing as destiny,” Bobby scowls as he storms out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

VII.

 

“So you think your dad’s into this whole… ‘hunting’ thing too?”

Dean and Sam rest in Bobby’s library, Dean’s face nearly red with frustration. Sam wants to calm him down, he really does, but he also needs to know what Dean’s thinking first.

“Yeah,” Dean responds. “Started to suspect it right after we killed that ghost.”

Sam nods. “Any reason why? I mean, aside from the ‘extended hunting trips’.”

Dean grins faintly. “Yeah. See these shelves around us?”

Sam looks around quickly before focusing his attention back onto Dean. “Yeah?”

“Mythical lore,” Dean says. “Nearly all of them. My dad’s been interested in it for as long as I can remember.”

“Dean,” Sam says slowly. “Why didn’t you mention this?”

Dean rubs his forehead. “I wasn’t sure. I… I didn’t want to be wrong, I guess.”

Sam sighs and stands up. “Listen, Dean, if you’re having doubts, it’s too late to turn back now. We need to talk to your dad and get him on the same page.”

Dean glares at Sam. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Still, he rises a moment later.

“So,” Sam starts. “Where do you think your dad went?”

“No,” Dean says sternly, pointing a finger at Sam. “We’re talking to my mom first.”

Sam shrugs. “Okay.”

The pair heads back into the kitchen, where Ellen is still cleaning up after dinner.

“Hey, mom?” Dean says as they enter the room. Ellen turns to face them, a weary look in her eyes.

She responds calmly. “Yeah, baby?”

Dean forces a smile. “We thought it would be best to talk to you before going to Dad. Y’know, since he’s in a mood.” Deans is attempting - and failing - to come across as nonchalant.

Ellen heaves a deep sigh. “Listen, boys, this is more Bobby’s business than mine.”

Dean’s expression deadpans. “Mom, I know that you were involved in… hunting, too.”

Sam glares at Dean in shock. Ellen matches Dean’s vague expression. “And why would you think that?”

“Those times where you went out to ‘find new beers’ for the saloon? Yeah, well, you never did. You’ve had the same beers on tap for decades. And I have every right to believe that you were hunting.”

Ellen looks down and sighs. “Okay, so I did a bit of huntin’ myself, but it was still mainly your father’s business.”

“And why the hell are you so calm? I mean if I’m going to base anything on Dad’s reaction, this whole situation is a pretty big deal.”

Ellen stares into Dean, a sudden intensity taking over her eyes. “Just ‘cause I can handle myself better than a child doesn’t mean that I’m calm, Dean. This ain’t some competition to see who can blow up the best.”

Dean nods. “Okay. Sorry. But we really need to talk to Dad. Where’d he run off to?”

Ellen shakes her head. “Out to the front porch would be my guess.”

Dean gives a distant smile. “Thanks,” he says as he marches out of the room. Sam follows.

“You sure you’re ready to handle your dad?” Sam asks carefully. Dean doesn’t even turn to face the other man.

“Dude, don’t worry. This isn’t the first time my dad’s gotten like this. I mean, maybe it hasn’t been this bad, but I know how to handle him.”

Sam sighs lightly. “Okay.”

They reach the front door. Dean pauses.

“You ready?” Sam asks.

“Hell yeah I am,’’ Dean says as he swings open the entryway.

As expected, Bobby is seated on the front porch. He stares directly ahead, not bothering to turn to the younger men as they step out of the house.

“Dad?” Dean says, voice softening just a bit.

Bobby doesn’t respond.

“Listen, Dad,” Dean continues, clearly hopeful that his father isn’t ignoring him altogether. “About me becoming a hunter… listen, it’s just who I was meant to be. It’s-”

Suddenly, Bobby is facing Sam and Dean. “You aren’t ‘meant to be’ anything, boy,” he snaps. “If anything, you weren’t meant to get into this business. I’m warnin’ you now, it will tear you up from the inside out. We didn’t raise you to be ready, and I don’t expect you to be. This ain’t safe grounds for you. Listen, just get out while you still can.”

Dean is silent for a moment. “No,” he says slowly. “Dad, listen to me. I’m a hunter. There isn’t anything that’s stopping that fact at this point. The only question is whether or not you’re gonna help me out.”

“I ain’t helping my own son get himself killed!”

“Well if you’re not helping me, trust me, the chances of me getting myself killed are going to skyrocket,” Dean says, still speaking calmly.

Bobby turns to face ahead again. For a moment, Dean and Sam believe that they may have lost his interest. However, a moment later, he speaks. “I’ll take you on one easy huntin’ trip. One. A simple haunting, nothin’ else. But you’ll realize from the moment we enter that house that it isn’t who you’re ‘supposed to be’.”

Dead nods plainly. “Sounds like a plan.” He turns to face Sam, still speaking to his dad, “Sam can come along, right? We’re sorta already partners in this.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Bobby mutters.

Dean smiles. “Wanna come inside? Might as well try to enjoy this time together as a family.”

Bobby scowls. “Yeah, whatever.”

Sam holds open the door as the other two men pass through. They may not have accomplished much - particularly considering they’d already handled a haunting - but it’s a start. And that is good enough for the time being. Almost.


End file.
